


in the day

by harcourt



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: D/s-verse, I wrote this for the kink meme, M/M, Man Out of Time, Mentions of past abuse, temporal homesickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:06:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harcourt/pseuds/harcourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/8247.html?thread=18340151#t18340151">this prompt</a>, where Steve is a man out of time, and things really were better way back when. </p>
<p>
  <i>Today, Doms control every aspect of their subs lives, more like ownership than a partnership. And when Steve wakes up, every one expects him to slot neatly into society because he comes from a time when "Doms were Doms and subs were subs," right?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the day

**Author's Note:**

> The premise of this fic is explained in world building detail at the prompt, which is linked in the summary. If you like that kind of thing.
> 
> And I do.

Clint's doing it again, and it would be hot if Steve thought he was doing it because it's what he honestly wanted, instead of what he thought was expected of him. Because everything is going _great_ , except that there's that flash of something that's not hurt and not anger, but _something_ in Clint's eyes before he goes to his knees when Steve walks into a room.

Tony's mouth quirks a little, almost like he wants to tease Clint, but he keeps his peace and instead raises an eyebrow at Steve as Steve frowns and hesitates, a little disconcerted the way he always feels when Clint breaks off conversations or activities to assume a proper stance. He's athletic, and not clumsy at all as he goes down, but he's not that graceful about it either. It looks hard for him and far from a reflex, like he hasn't done this too often. Like he hasn't let anyone _be_ somebody he'd kneel for, in a long while. Somebody he _has_ to kneel for.

It takes a second, because Clint hates not being able to see his surroundings, but then he dips his head and his hair--longer now that he's an Avenger and can sidestep some SHIELD regulations--falls into his face, further obscuring his vision. And then, another couple seconds later, Clint brings his arms behind his back, crossing his wrists. His head tilts a bit and Steve realizes he's glancing at Tony, like he's waiting for Tony to say something about it, but whether he expects a comment on his show of submission or on how unpracticed and hesitant he is, Steve's not sure.

It makes him angry, like it does every time. He says, "Clint," and Clint's gaze immediately goes back to the floor in front of him. 

Tony gives the two of them a long look--a judgemental look, Steve imagines, because in _his_ day a sub acting like Clint does would bring suspicions of abuse--and goes back to what they'd been doing that Steve's entrance had interrupted. Cooking, or more likely eating anything in the fridge that was already halfway edible.

Steve goes to a crouch in front of Clint--and kneeling on the kitchen floor really _really_ doesn't suit Barton--and gently brushes his hair back, out of his face. "Clint," he says, pitched so Tony won't overhear too much of it, "we talked about this. C'mon. Up."

Clint shivers. "Sorry," he says, and it seems to take as much effort for him to uncross his wrists as it did to cross them in the first place. "Can-- _May_ I?" His hand hovers. He wants to touch. Bucky had _never_ thought he'd need to ask permission, and if he did ask--for the effect of it, which was to be sexy and playful--he'd never have bothered to stumble towards politer language than he'd normally use. Steve wants to frown, but he doesn't.

"Yes. Of course. You never have to ask for that," he says and Clint tilts his head to look up at him, a sort of hesitant, questioning look before he lets his breath out in a huff and raises his head to meet Steve's eyes with a grin. Then he leans forward to kiss him quick on the mouth.

"Come on," Steve laughs, because _that's_ Clint, finally, "get up, huh?" 

He straightens and Clint follows. Pauses to glare at Tony, who's used up his daily allotment of tact and is now smirking openly.

"One word, Stark," Steve threatens, and Tony hold up both hands to signal peace and goes back to rifling through ice box containers.

\----

It's hard to just say _I don't want this to be like this_ to Clint, because Clint is clearly trying so hard to be good for him. And it _is_ for him, because Steve thinks he knows what the look on Clint's face is, when he walks into a room and Clint slides down to his knees. 

It's a mix of anger and fear and even embarrassment and Steve thinks it will probably turn into resentment one day, because Clint should _not_ be on his knees on the shooting range, of all places. This place, above all others, is where Clint should hold his head high and toss Steve that cocky grin he'd worn all the time before they were together. When Clint was a sub who didn't give a crap what people thought instead of Steve's sub who suddenly cared a whole lot what people thought of Steve, if not of him. 

There's enough ill will towards Clint still floating around SHIELD that Steve casts a quick look around the range, to take note of any faces that seem to take too much pleasure at the sight of him on his knees at last, his smart mouth obediently snapped closed.

It's one of the things Steve hates the most about this new world, the way interactions have this hard, almost nasty edge sometimes. Where a sub on his knees in public elicits sneers and scorn instead of evoking warm smiles and the sense of romance. He hates that what was once a gesture of love and trust between partners is now a--a fucking social requirement.

More than that, because Clint has scars from doms who didn't think he went down fast enough or willingly enough or _prettily_ enough. And that's another reason he can't just tell Clint he doesn't like it. Clint is trusting him with things he won't give up for just anyone--pride, and power and trust and, in this less kind new world, the acceptance that Steve is allowed to hurt him if he fails to please. He can't tell Clint that he's not submitting properly _again_.

So he says, lightly, "Hey, Clint," and when Clint looks up, nods for him to get back to his feet. 

Clint grins and says, "Hey, Cap," and Steve loves that Clint's eyes light with mischief at the casual greeting. At what would these days be considered blatant disrespect. Clint is _sexy_ down on his knees, with his face lit by irreverent humor. Steve can't imagine anyone wanting to thrash the defiance out of him. It's what _makes_ Clint. It's what makes it so, so good when Clint slides to his knees and means it.

This, though. This catering to what Steve thinks of as an ugly power game, playing along with what looks more to him like ownership than partnership has nothing appealing about it. 

"Up, up," Steve urges, and Clint does, making his feet with a little bounce. The range is his turf and he can't quite keep the confidence out of his movements here. Can't quite erase the pride from the tilt of his head.

Steve doesn't want him to. 

\----

"You know Clint's a bad sub," Natasha tells him one day, at the beginning, when Clint is still all sass and back-talk, leaning over the kitchen island like she's telling a secret. Her eyes don't sparkle with laughter the way they usually do when she's talking shit about Clint, so Steve knows its serious and not some kind of in-joke he's missing the nuances of.

He's also a little bit shocked, and while he tries to figure out what Natasha's angle is, she reaches to the side and rifles through the fruit bowl, selecting an apple and biting into it with a wet crunch.

"He's fine," he says finally, a little stupidly because he still doesn't know what her game is. 

"Yeah he is," Natasha says, and points the apple at him for emphasis, "You try to make him into a _good_ sub--" She lets it hang. The threat is obvious. 

It takes a bit for Steve to catch on, because he thinks Clint's already a good sub. It takes some time out in the world before he realizes what she means and then he's torn between feeling offended that Natasha thinks he wants that and relief that someone else sees how wrong everything is.

After the range, after watching Clint try so hard to be passive and quiet and not Clint, he goes back to tell Natasha about Bucky and the time that Bucky knelt for him when he wasn't Captain America yet, still puny and asthmatic, and how it would have meant nothing if Steve had somehow forced it out of him. How Bucky had saved his ass just ten minutes before and physical power had nothing to do with any of it. About how he hates this new world where submission is considered a due and not a gift. How he hates all the ugly entitlement and most of all, how he hates the scars across Clint's back and that look on Clint's face when he goes down because he thinks he's supposed to.

"And I hate that you think I'd want that," he says a little angrily, because he's tired of everyone thinking he'd _ever_ want that. 

Natasha smiles at him. Then she kisses his cheek. Then she says, "I'm still keeping an eye on you," but it's friendly and playful and she winks at him as she leaves.

\----

"And they say they don't make them like they used to," Clint's saying to Tony, context unclear, as they stand at the edge of the blast zone that had been Tony's lab. "But clearly they've never--" he stops, catching sight of Steve, and wavers. It always takes him longer when Steve's entrance catches him in the middle of being a smart ass. Like he's reluctant to leave that role. 

Mostly, Clint's jokes aren't that good, but Steve never gets to hear the ends of any of them anymore. 

\----

"I miss you," he says eventually, by accident. Sort of blurting it while Clint's mouth is wrapped around his cock, which is probably bad timing. Clint's surprised enough that he pulls off. He doesn't say _what do you mean_ , or, _I'm right here_ , but instead rests his head against Steve's thigh and looks at him, his hair in his eyes again.

"I hope you aren't growing your hair for me," Steve goes on, because now he can't stop. 

Clint says, "You don't like it?" with no emotion. Like he's gathering information he has no personal stake in. Steve recognizes it as Clint being on guard, so he put his hands on Clint's head, running through his hair as if considering.

Steve doesn't _dis_ like it. It's handy for pulling, and he likes _that_ about it. He says, "You don't have to _do_ things for me, you know, Clint."

"You like when I _do_ things for you," Clint says, putting an entirely different emphasis on the word.

"I like when you do things you want to--" Steve starts, before realizing he's getting pulled into Clint's game. He stops. "I like _you_ , Clint. You don't have to be a-a good sub for me to like you."

Clint sighs, then sits back, straightening, taking his head off Steve's thigh, and he misses the warmth of it there. He gives Steve a hard, determined look. Like when his target is just slightly too small and far for him to make as a matter of course. Like when he's _trying_.

"I can do it," he says, like he's offended. Like Steve is doubting his dedication. 

"You don't have to," Steve says, "I don't want you to."

Clint flinches. Actually flinches, and then his head goes down. "What was it?" he says, "What did I get wrong?" low and kind of miserable and Steve feels like an ass because this is just what he'd promised himself he wouldn't do and here he was. Making Clint feel as lousy as every other dom he'd been with.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong. I just." Steve catches Clint by the arms and tugs him up, turning as he does so he can guide Clint to sit opposite him on the bed, "I miss _you_. You stop talking when I come into a room, you stop _everything_. You tease everyone on the comms except me. It's like--like "he borrows a phrase from a movie Tony made him watch, "like you're freezing me out." 

Clint looks at him like he's nuts. 

"It was different in my day," he tries, and he hates playing the old man card, but it works because Clint's expression softens at the homesickness he can't keep out of his voice. He tells Clint the same story he told Natasha, edited somewhat so it won't come off like he's pining for Bucky, even though sometimes he is.

He says, "I don't know what I'm supposed to want, but I don't need you to kneel for me all the time. _I_ know you'll go down when I ask. You don't have to prove it to anybody. You don't have to prove it to _me_."

"But--" Clint starts, then smiles sheepishly and says, self consciously and in a voice that's choked with laughter, like he thinks it sounds ridiculous now that he's saying it, "But you're Captain America." Captain America can't have a bad sub, Steve hears, and thinks, Captain American can't be an asshole of a dom.

"That's why," he says.

Clint laughs, for real now, "That's not why," he says, and it feels good to hear Clint contradict him, "You're so full of shit."

Steve agrees, because it really _doesn't_ have anything to do with who else they might be, or who other people think should or shouldn't be worthy of them. "You're fine, Clint. You're really fine. You don't have to-to _work_ so hard."

"I can be a good sub," Clint tells him, but lighter now. He quirks a playful look at Steve, "I've been one before."

Steve grins, "You _are_ a good sub, Clint."

"I'll prove it to you," Clint says, as if Steve hadn't spoken.

"Oh?" Steve can get behind that. He nods at the space on the floor that Clint's vacated, "back on your knees, then."

And Clint goes, without hesitation or awkwardness. Graceful and willing when it's just Steve. He settles back between Steve's thighs and peers up at him. Says, "And I hate my stupid hair in my eyes."

Steve brushes it back for him before getting a good grip. Says, "Shh. No more talking now unless you want to stop."

\----

Clint gets a haircut, but not much of one. 

"That'll be back in your eyes in no time," Steve tells him, running his hands through it, tugging on the newly even ends.

"You like to pull it," Clint says, quiet, and before Steve can say that shouldn't matter, adds, "I like that you do," and grins a little. 

Steve uses his hair to pull him in and kiss him.

\----

On the range, Clint replaces his reluctant kneel with a graceful little head bob. Not quite a bow. It's submissive, but elegant and brief and like he's acknowledging Steve instead of capitulating to him. It makes Steve feel warm in his chest.

"I have to do _something_ ," Clint says later, like he thinks Steve hates it, "Or they'll think you dumped me."

"You're beautiful," Steve tells him, and backs him up until he has him trapped, with arms on either side to prevent escape. He lifts Clint easy as anything, and Clint wraps his legs around him, lets Steve press him harder into the wall. "What do you want, Clint? Tell me what you want."

Clint grins. "I don't think that's how it works, Cap."

"That's how it works," Steve says, "That's how it works for us."


End file.
